


TOUCHPAPER

by tardis_mole



Category: Broadchurch
Genre: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-13
Updated: 2014-11-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 18:13:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13664520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tardis_mole/pseuds/tardis_mole
Summary: Summary: There is more to Joe’s and Ellie’s lives that no one, not even Ellie, knew about. She must face the repercussions of those secrets and put the shattered pieces of her life and her sons’ lives back together.





	TOUCHPAPER

**Author's Note:**

> Legal Stuff: No money, goods or services have been exchanged for this story. No breach of copyright is intended. The original work and it's characters are owned by the production companies, authors and scriptwriters. I'm just borrowing them for my own amusement and the entertainment of my readers. I will return them when they tire of me; the characters that is. My readers are non-negotiable.
> 
> ***** DO NOT COPY, SAVE, REPOST OR SHARE THIS WORK. ***** Doing so constitutes stealing under the Theft Act 1968.
> 
> Author’s notes: Set at the end of Season One.
> 
> alternate timeline, broadchurch, hardy/miller, rated r

TOUCHPAPER 

Date: November 13 2014

Author: Tardis Mole

Genre: Broadchurch

Rating: R

Pairings/Characters: Hardy/Miller. Tom Miller. Fred Miller. Other characters.

Warnings: Child abuse (mentioned)

Summary: There is more to Joe’s and Ellie’s lives that no one, not even Ellie, knew about. She must face the repercussions of those secrets and put the shattered pieces of her life and her sons’ lives back together.

Legal Stuff: No money, goods or services have been exchanged for this story. No breach of copyright is intended. The original work and it's characters are owned by the production companies, authors and scriptwriters. I'm just borrowing them for my own amusement and the entertainment of my readers. I will return them when they tire of me; the characters that is. My readers are non-negotiable.

***** DO NOT COPY, SAVE, REPOST OR SHARE THIS WORK. ***** Doing so constitutes stealing under the Theft Act 1968.

Author’s notes: Set at the end of Season One.

alternate timeline, broadchurch, hardy/miller, rated r

ĐĐ

In the ante room of the autopsy suite, they could see Danny’s body laid out on the slab beyond the glass. He was covered with a sheet, but his face was visible. The pathologist looked grave. Ellie couldn’t even speak and tried to find an analytical approach, pretend that it was a body of a stranger. She let her new boss speak.

“What do you have?” Hardy asked, his Scottish twang unwittingly already getting backs up in his new post. Like he cared. He was here to do a job and they had better just suck it up. It was his second week as DI at Broadchurch, and now it looked like he was in at the deep end before he had even located the pool.

“Superficial cuts and bruises to the face,” Dr. Lovegood began. “Traces of domestic cleaning fluid on the skin. Cause of death was asphyxiation. He was strangled. Bruising to the neck and windpipe and at the top of the spine. The pattern of bruising suggests large hands. I’d say male. And it would have been brutal. The angle suggests he would have been facing his attacker. He would have known.”

“Any sexual violence?” Hardy asked.

Ellie paled, feeling a cold sweat cluster across her skin. And she had only just managed the last mental task before her new boss had thrown her another one. 

“I’m afraid the answer is yes,” Lovegood replied. “Preliminaries suggest recent as well as historic.”

Ellie suddenly retched dryly. “God, sorry.”

“Take your time, Miller,” Hardy suggested kindly. “This isn’t going to be easy and we should expect the worst.”

Ellie managed a nod.

“This isn’t going to be easy on any of us,” Lovegood replied. “Broadchurch is a tight-knit community. Everyone knows each other. We don’t get much tourism, so someone from outside is going to be noticed. But if this turns out to be one of our own... I hope you’re ready for a backlash, Detective Inspector.”

Hardy took that in the same way as everything else in life, with a pinch of salt and moved on. “The time of death?”

“I'd put it between 10pm last night and 4am this morning. Until I’ve completed the full autopsy, I can only give you that window.”

“How long will it take to get DNA evidence?”

“Give me seventy-two hours, but I can’t guarantee anything. The gut is notoriously difficult, for obvious reasons. But I’ll do my best.”

“Thank you,” Hardy replied.

“We don’t get these around here,” Lovegood added as they turned to leave. “Make sure you find them.”

Outside Hardy walked over to Ellie’s car as she threw up in the neatly trimmed bushes. He waited for her, trying not to roll his eyes. He wouldn’t. This was her first murder, her first abuse case, of child rape as it turned out to be. Back when he was new to CID he’d offloaded several meals into discrete locations.

“You all right?” he asked gently.

The poor woman looked green.

“I’ll be fine,” she said. “Just don’t mention food.”

He got into the car, thinking about what he had already learned about her so far. She had at least one child, a son, same age as the dead boy. The killer was very likely a man, given the size of the hands and the fact that there was a sexual aspect to the crime. That meant the woman next to him wasn’t a suspect. He had already deduced that from her body language and reaction to the crime scene. That narrowed it down. One suspect eliminated; two thousand more to go.

He took out a bottle of water from his pocket and held it out to her.

Ellie looked at it and at him. “Thanks, but no,” she said. “Not to put a too fine a point on it, but how do I know you haven’t spiked it?”

He unscrewed the lid, hearing the telltale ripping of the seal as it turned. He took a large swig of water and held it out again. “Wash your mouth out,” he suggested.

Ellie glared at him and turned away, ignoring the bottle, and started the car. “To get to the point, sir. I don’t like you, and I don’t want to work with you. But since the latter is out of my control, I’ll do what I have to do to find the sick fuck that did this to my friends’ boy. But I am not obliged to be your friend!”

Đ

Barely two months later, in a hotel room, Ellie’s life had spiralled out of control and the rug was gone from under her feet. She sat next to Tom on the bed, and spoke quietly and calmly. They had arrested Joe six hours before for abuse, but the case had been interconnected with other events. Abuse didn’t mean murder. Other secrets and details had to be collected and sifted through to get to the truth and put the blame for both the abuse and the death on one person.

“Tom, why did you send those threatening emails to Danny?”

“He said he had a new friend, one who understood him better than me. I was angry. It was Dad, wasn’t it?”

Ellie nodded.

Tom sobbed for a moment. “It’s my fault Danny’s dead.

“No. No, Tom. It’s not your fault,” Ellie soothed through her tears, stroking his hair and kissing his temple.

“It is, though,” he insisted.

“How can it be your fault?” she asked softly.

“If I hadn’t said no, he would have left Danny alone.”

Ellie felt her heart drop into her shoes. “What? What do you mean? Say no to what?”

“Dad used to touch me, Mum,” Tom revealed. “He said if I told anyone, he’d kill me.”

“When?” she managed, her voice strangled with mounting horror and grief.

“He used to hug me. Just sit with me and hug me for ages. And then he started touching me the day Fred was born, told me it was my special present for becoming a big brother. He said it was our secret.”

Ellie felt sick. She mentally mapped the shift in her mind. Joe had taken over bath times and bedtimes. He’d explained it away as giving her time to rest and look after their new baby. “When was the last time?” she spoke unsteadily.

“At my birthday party last year.”

Ellie thought back. November. Around the same time Joe had started meeting Danny.

“I told him I’m not doing it any more. I didn’t want to. He told me he’d get me back for rejecting him. He said he’d hurt Fred. He said it was my fault you had to go back to work after Fred was born, and my fault you and him were splitting up. He said if I did it we’d stay together and everything would be all right. But I said no. He said I was being selfish.”

“Why didn’t you say something during the interview?”

“Because Dad was sitting there,” Tom replied. “When Dad was taking me out of the interview, I looked back at DI Hardy and I hoped he could see how scared I was. But he didn’t... Dad went to Danny instead of me, didn’t he?”

Ellie managed a nod. She curled her arms around Tom and sank into tears. “My boy,” she sobbed. “My boy.”

Đ

Hardy was surprised when Ellie knocked on his hotel room door. She had walked from the Bridport roundabout, in the dark, so it had to have been important.

“I need that friend,” she began. “I said I didn’t want it that day we met. Well, I need it now.”

He let her in.

“Was my marriage that much of a sham? Was I not enough that he had to turn to kids? Was I the last to know, while everyone else laughed at me behind my back, pointed accusing fingers at me as I walked down the High Street?”

Hardy shook his head. He preferred to let people vent and then speak. But it broke his heart to see her like this. Without permission, his eyes watered. “I’ve asked the same questions.”

Ellie looked at him, instantly angry at him. “So you had a pop at it, as well?! How dare you! You condescending-!”

“My wife,” he cut in gently, silencing her vitriol like a knife through butter.

She stared at him, watching a tear escape and dribble down his cheek.

“She was on duty,” he managed, swallowing passed the lump in his throat. “Stopped off at a hotel with another officer... I was at the station, waiting for her to arrive with crucial evidence. The pendent Steve Connolly mentioned. It was a twenty minute journey. I was still waiting after an hour had passed. And then two. And I knew. I worked it out. And I asked myself, time and time again; where did I go wrong? After thirteen years together, I thought I knew her... And then she does that.”

Ellie gazed at him, hearing his voice break, watching him cry. Just a little.

“The way everyone looked at me,” he recalled. “Like I was the last to know. Like my marriage was public property. Karen White even accosted my daughter at the school gate, wanting to know what she thought about it. Twelve years old. She even asked her, to her face, if she knew who her real father was.”

“Oh god. That’s horrible.”

Hardy nodded, accepting that, but the pain was still too raw to talk about it.

Ellie shrugged. “Look at us. A pair of has-beens. I thought Joe was the bees’ knees. He was my life, the one I shared everything with. The day I got back from our holiday and found out you’d taken my job, it was him I sobbed my heart out to. And he was always good with the boys, always the first to deal with scrapes and bumped heads and sick, and everything else. I never developed the stomach for it. And he was always so clever at organising day trips and holidays, and rainy day fun. He never raised his voice, never raised a hand to them. How has he gone from that to this, or was I so blinded...? Is he a paedophile?”

“There are no degrees, Miller.”

There was a long silence before Ellie opened up.

“Sir. I need to tell you something... About Tom. I asked him why he’d sent those email threats to Danny. He said it was just anger. He also told me why he thinks his dad went to Danny.”

Hardy felt a schism of ice form in his chest as she spoke. The tone of her voice. The broken, devastated tone, the edge of revulsion that came with it. The ice magnified tenfold as she took out a Dictaphone from her pocket and held it out to him. He took it.

“Six minutes, twelve seconds,” she told him, her face already wet with tears.

Hardy rewound the recording and pressed play.

“It’s my fault Danny’s dead.”

“No. No, Tom. It’s not your fault.”

“It is, though.”

“How can it be your fault?”

“If I hadn’t said no, he would have left Danny alone.”

“What? What do you mean? Say no to what?”

“Dad used to touch me, Mum. He said if I told anyone, he’d kill me.”

Ellie broke down as her son’s voice filled the room. He stopped the playback, feeling cold all over. He reached out to give her hand a gentle squeeze.

“The night I came to you... about the boat,” she said, her voice empty. “I got home and Joe and Tom were in bed together... Do you think...?”

She couldn’t say it. The words would not even reach her constricted throat.

Đ

Ellie sat alone, elbows on her thighs and hands clasped together. She remained motionless, a statue of grief and pain. Her boys would normally have been in bed at this time of night, but this was more important. And it was best not left unchecked. She wished she could have been in there with them, better yet save them from it, but she couldn’t.

She felt cold, numb and empty. For some time, she didn’t even notice Hardy sit down beside her. When she eventually did, she was glad he was a man of few words. There was nothing he could say and she didn’t even want him to try.

She wouldn’t call it a companionable silence. They weren’t friends. They weren’t even colleagues anymore. He had been medicalled out, and she would probably be returned to uniform. Or at the very least, stripped of rank. She could see the top brass returning her to beat duty. Or worse; the phones.

But what about her sons? Would they recover? Would they be emotionally and psychologically scarred? Would she ever get back to normality? Would the social services swoop in, like they did for Susan Wright, and take her kids?

At least she wasn’t pregnant. Joe had never wanted kids. Tom had been a honeymoon baby and Fred had been a broken condom. Getting pregnant with Fred was the point where their marriage had fallen apart. Joe had even said at one point that he stayed for the kids. They had gone to Florida for the kids. He had given up work for the kids. They had put up a united front for the kids. And even now, even her nosy sister didn’t know Joe slept in another room when she was at home.

But what about her? Ellie’s only constant, away from the kids, was work. And besides Brian, no one had taken any notice of her, as a woman. Well... there was the DS she had fancied, Finley Jones. He had always been nice to her, but he had transferred to South Mercia Police. And then there was that one comment from her boss, but feeling sorry for her really didn’t amount to much of a compliment. And she hated him for taking her job. Since doing that he had done nothing more than point out every fault and failing, every lack of skill and judgement, every oversight in her work.

Actually, that wasn’t fair. He had taken her under his wing, shaped her, trained her and got her ready to be the best DI she could be. He had remoulded her to be his replacement, making sure she fit the job she wanted. Only, with her husband now under arrest, that coveted position would never be hers. Hardy’s tutelage had been for nothing.

“Ellie?”

Ellie looked up to find the Chief Super standing in the corridor. Elaine hadn’t wasted time, she thought.

Hardy jumped up in her defence. “Sir, can’t this wait? Just for a-”

“Stand aside, Alec,” Elaine told him firmly but gently.

She never raised her voice. That was a thing. Alec stepped back.

“Ellie, walk with me,” Elaine said.

Ellie got to her feet. She would face this with as much dignity as she could. Her chin wobbled for a moment, before she set off to meet her fate.

Around the corner and out of earshot, Elaine spoke clearly and precisely.

“I’ve been handed orders from above.”

“Sir, my boys are due to come out of the examination suite at any moment.”

“This will only take a moment,” Elaine replied. “There will be an internal inquiry. No complaint has been made against you. However, HQ feels an inquiry is in the best interests of public confidence.”

Ellie sank inside. If it had gone that far, it meant she could kiss goodbye to even phones. She was finished in the force.

“That said, the position of DI is now vacant.”

Ellie stared at her as if she’d gone mad.

“The Chief Constable has suggested that once the inquiry and the trial are over, you should resubmit your application for the job.”

Ellie was angry and horrified. “Sir, that’s Hardy’s job!”

“He’s unfit.”

“For now,” Ellie defended. “Once he’s had a pacemaker fitted, he’ll be fit for duty again.”

“That is uncertain.”

“Yeah, but what is certain is that I’ve done nothing wrong and yet I’m under suspicion. At the very least, I should be taken off CID and shoved into manning the CCTVs!”

“How do you and Hardy get on?” Elaine asked, somewhat randomly.

Ellie frowned. “What? I dunno. We don’t. I can’t stand him. He’s an egotistical bastard. Why?”

Elaine did not answer. “You’re suspended, on full pay until the internal inquiry is done,” she continued undeterred. “Take some time to think about what I’ve said.”

Đ

Ellie returned to her seat and sat back against the wall.

“You all right?”

She shrugged, not trusting her voice for the moment. “My life’s in ruins. My kids’ lives are ruined. And I’m now facing an inquiry, which might cost me my job. And my husband, who’s already been charged with murder, has just been charged with child abuse.”

There was a long pause.

“You mean your ex-husband, don’t you?” he voiced quietly.

Ellie turned to him sharply. “How did you find out?” she hissed. “No one was supposed to find out!”

“The Chief Super told me,” he replied.

“Have you been snooping on me?” she demanded.

“Shut up, Miller.”

“Don’t you tell me to shut up! Answer the question!”

“No,” he replied. “I told the Chief Super that I was worried about you being up at the hotel, away from friends and family. She asked me if there was anything I should declare. I told her there had been no impropriety between us if that was what she was alluding to. I told her you hated me, resented me for getting the job you’d gone for. She asked me if I returned those feelings, and I had to say no. I told her if anything I was considering reporting myself for fraternising, because I’ve fancied Ellie since the first day I met her, but I haven’t acted on it. And nor would I, she’s married. She told me that you and Joe had got divorced while you were on maternity leave, a few weeks before Fred was born.” He sniffed circumspectly. “Makes sense now, why you were so put off by my calling you Miller all the time. You must have been bottling it up very well, because I barely saw anything more than mild annoyance.”

Ellie ignored the facetious note at the end. All she could focus on was the admission in the middle of the longest string of words she had ever heard come out of his mouth. “You fancy me?!” she exclaimed. “All that time and you’re only telling me now?”

“I thought you were married.”

“I thought I annoyed you.”

“No. You thought I was a job-stealing knob,” he corrected. He turned to look at her. “Would you like a cup?”

“Don’t bloody tempt me!” she grated tightly.

They both sank into silence and remained there for some minutes.

“Elaine didn’t mention any fraternisation,” Ellie spoke at length.

“That’s because I haven’t officially filed it yet.”

“Why would you? That would throw me in even more shit!”

“That’s why I didn’t file it. Plus, you’ve given me no cause to report you. In fact, you’re nothing but the complete opposite to the point where a man could just give up and wither way.”

Ellie was silent, but angry. Not at him, though. That was the surprise. Because, now, as she looked back on the last two months, she could understand his brusque behaviour a bit more; his reluctance to be caught in conversation with her; his reluctance to show kindness to her, and his attempt to train her up to replace him while maintaining an air of indifference.

And all that time, she’d put up a front of her own. Cold, bitter hatred.

In truth, she didn’t hate him. It was hardly his fault. She was bitter at the system that had put a better officer in the job she’d wanted. And Hardy had swooped in, pointed out how she didn’t fit the job. And then, he’d shown her how to improve herself. He could have paired himself up with Dom, or Frank, or Desai, all good officers. But instead he had chosen her, told her she wasn’t DI material, and had set about putting it right.

Did she hate him? Not really, if she was honest. She thought she’d hated his methods, but it was more that she envied them and resented him for having them, and reluctantly she’d come to admire and respect them. He had slapped her down and pulled her back up, shaping her into a better officer. Nothing had prepared her for Joe, but that could have been worse. She couldn’t bare the thought of what it would have been like if she and Joe had still been married. On the other hand, in everyone else’s eyes, she and Joe were still married.

She thought about that moment when Hardy had asked her if she remembered Joe coming to bed. Like they still slept together. Like Hardy hadn’t worked it out. Even a DI could miss details, then?

Going away on holiday had been awkward. The hotel had given them a family suite; double bed, single bed and a cot. They’d shared the bed, for appearances. Bit weird. Sleeping with your ex. Not that they’d done anything. She began to wonder, not for the first time that day, if that night she’d found Tom in bed with Joe had been that innocent.

Did she really feel cold towards Hardy? Comparing her feelings for Joe, now, she had to conclude that she didn’t. Without the benefit of a man’s touch she had grown grumpy, lethargic and bitter before Hardy had arrived. She had swamped it beneath work and kids, and friends, and then the holiday, and that idiot of a sister of hers, and a knob for a boss. And finding out what Joe had been doing behind her back. Could she ever trust a man again? Could she ever trust a man with her kids?

Hardy was not Joe. He kept secrets, but not like Joe. Hardy had a hard exterior, but she had been alone in a car with him. She’d worked alone with him. Instead of fraternising, he had asked her if she was all right. Had she eaten? Had she slept yet? How was she feeling? He had made her tea - eventually - and complimented her on her work. Albeit once.

There were layers to this man sitting next to her, layers that intrigued her, layers she wanted to see. It was fair, after all. He knew all her layers, had seen the worst of them. She had never lost control like that before. Thank God Hardy had been there to hold her back, or she would have killed Joe. And he had only let her in to see Joe for, what? Sympathy? She knew the reason. He thought she and Joe were still married. If he’s known, he wouldn’t have done that.

She heard him sigh. At that point she realised just how long she had been silent. He was probably thinking now that he had blown any chance, if he had had any in the first place.

“The thing is,” she blurted out, just as he was about to get to his feet and walk away. “How do I know I can trust you with my kids? How do I know you’re not going to break my heart? Coz right now I am done with men. My kids might not want another man in the house. I’ve got to think of them first. My happiness, if it even exists for me anymore, is not important. And I don’t need the hassle of explaining to the boys why I’ve gone from abusive murderer to someone else’s washed-out cast-off!”

Hardy flinched. “Thanks for that,” he put in brusquely. “Nice to know where I stand.”

“Exactly,” she retorted. “You don’t stand anywhere. You’re my boss. And you’ve done nothing but insult me and degrade me since you arrived. I haven’t seen anything that even so much as hints at what you’re suggesting.”

“That was the point,” he countered evenly. “Strictly professional. At least, I tried to be. It was getting harder to maintain that lie.” 

“What makes you think you could maintain a lie if we were still working together now?”

“That’s not what I meant, Miller. Why don’t you just say no and let me move on? You talk too much. Get to the point.”

“Oh. That’s right. You work in lists, don’t you? Well, let’s see. DI Hardy; man or machine? Does he have feelings? If so, where are they? Does he fancy the murderer’s ex-wife? If so, where’s the evidence? Is DI Hardy able to have sex without keeling over and dying half way through? Recent evidence suggests no.”

He turned his head to look at her, his expression blank. “Are you done?”

“Yeah. What, you think I could mimic your five-minute repertoire?”

“For your information, Miller. I’ve had a heart attack within the last six weeks. That means I shouldn’t have sex. Other than that, I haven’t been told to abstain.” He looked at her seriously. “Why? Is that what you think I want you for? A quick roll? A sympathy vote? Or a curiosity to find out what sleeping with a child-killer’s ex would be like? If so, I’m sorry to disappoint you. I actually thought of you as worth a long time commitment. I actually thought you’d think of my interest as a compliment. I guess I was wrong. And, now, we’re both disappointed.”

“Compliment? With everything else that’s going on? I don’t need a compliment! Why would I jeopardise my job by getting involved with a senior officer? I’ve just come back from a Chief Super who thinks you’re finished and telling her you’ll be back on duty in no time. Not only that, I’ve got to get my boys through a trial. What is it going to look like if I have an affair with my ex-husband’s arresting officer?” she demanded. “God, I can see the defence in court now!”

“I wasn’t looking for an affair.”

“It’s what it looks like!” she snapped.

“I was looking for something a little more real and permanent!” he told her crossly. “I’m sorry that offended you.”

“Damned right, it did!”

Hardy got up and walked away, leaving Ellie seething, but with no one to vent at and nothing more to vent.

Đ

“And why did you kill Danny and not your own son?” the solicitor asked in the silent Courtroom. “What made Danny’s rejection more absolute than Tom’s?”

Joe swallowed. “I dunno. It, it just was. Tom I could understand, coz I’m his dad and he’s my son. It wasn’t right. Danny was different. He wasn’t related. And he came to me,” he justified.

“Did he really?” the solicitor pressed. “Did he really come to you in any other way than to fix his torn lip?”

Joe paused. “No,” he replied. “But... He-he threatened to tell everyone. He threatened. I snapped. I held him up and I shouted at him, and, and I-I forgot how tall he was... I never meant to kill him. It was an accident,” he sobbed. “I loved him.” He wept openly on the stand.

Đ

“And you kicked the living daylights out of him!” the solicitor accused.

Ellie relived that moment in far too much clarity. “He asked to see Tom. And I snapped,” she admitted. “I was protecting my son and if that makes me guilty then so be it. But I did not kill Danny or hurt him or my children in any way. I had nothing to do with it. I’d challenge anyone in my position to have done differently.”

The solicitor pursed her lips and reined in a sigh. “No further questions, my lady.”

Đ

“Is this my life now?” Ellie wondered. “To be stared at and scorned and scrutinised by all and sundry.”

“I hope not,” Hardy replied. “That would paint a very ugly picture of humanity.”

Ellie sat in the garden of her home, the house she had shared with Joe. Hardy sat beside her, mug of tea in his hand. Joe had been found guilty of abuse, but the charge of murder had not stuck. There hadn’t been enough evidence. Apparently.

“What will you do now?”

“I dunno. Sell the house. The thing is I’ve lived here all my life. My parents owned this house and left it to me, bought and paid for when I was a child. This is all I know.”

“Don’t sell. I meant what I said. This is your home. Plus you have friends here.”

She let out a half-hearted snort of cynicism. “Not anymore. I’m the child abuser’s wife.” She sighed and got up. “More tea?”

He lifted his drained mug and she took it. He watched her go back inside, thoughtful.

Đ

Ellie switched the kettle on and began making the tea.

“Mum?”

Ellie turned to Tom, who had emerged from the living room. She could hear a DVD playing in the other room, and Fred’s giggly laugh drifted through. “You ok, love? What are you and Fred watching?”

“Ratatouille.”

“Ah, good one,” she praised as the kettle clicked. “Are you hungry?”

“Not yet.”

Ellie knew he was hedging in to say something. She could tell. “Go on, what is it?”

“Are you going to get married again?”

In her shock she knocked the kettle into one of the mugs and it tipped onto the floor. It smashed into several pieces that fanned out around her. “Oh shit!” She set the kettle down before she could burn herself and looked at the broken mug at her feet. “And you didn’t hear me say that,” she warned her son.

Tom smirked a little.

“Oh god, that was my favourite mug,” she bemoaned as she opened the cupboard under the sink. She took out a dustpan and brush. “What on Earth made you ask such a question?” she asked as she began to sweep up.

“Well, you’re divorced, so you’ll want someone else, won’t you?” Tom suggested in childish innocence.

“Doesn’t work like that, Tom,” she replied, eyes on what she was doing. “Falling in love and getting married don’t happen overnight.”

“Doesn’t mean you’re not looking, though, right? Coz Fred needs a dad.”

“Tom!” Ellie rebuked gently. “It’s not- well, yes, he should have a father figure around, I’m not disputing that, but you’ve got Olly... I see your point. You both need a father-figure, but you can’t just magic one up. It doesn’t work like that. And your dad’s only been in prison for six months. Not even long enough for me to be thinking of ‘looking’ for someone else.”

“But what about DI Hardy? He’s nice.”

She got to her feet in time to see the figure standing the open back doorway. He had lost all colour, which had somehow transferred to her face. She emptied the dustpan into the bin and put the dustpan away. “Tom, he’s my boss. And as lovely as your idea is... I’m sure I can do without my son matchmaking for me.” She picked up a Tupperware box from the counter and passed it to him. “Here. Jammy Dodgers. Make yourself scarce, cheeky boy.”

Tom skipped off with the box. 

“And share with Fred,” she called after him.

With Tom out of the room, it left the kitchen in a deafening silence.

“Sorry you had to hear that,” she voiced, attempting levity. “Kids. They say the daftest things.”

Hardy ambled across the kitchen, hands in his pockets, to stand next to her table, and leaned back on it. “They also pick up on things we parents like to think we’re hiding or aren’t even aware of,” he pointed out.

Ellie shot him a glare. “Like what?”

“I think we’re both intelligent enough to work that out,” he replied.

“The ink is barely dry on my divorce and my sons are damaged and you want me to have another man move in here-”

“Ellie,” he cut in. “I’m not suggesting I move in. I’m suggesting that you allow yourself to relax a little bit.” 

“You?! You walking ego!”

Suddenly he grinned disarmingly. Ellie had never seen him smile. The expression was utterly fascinating. She blinked and looked away.

“Knob!” she threw at him, but there was no venom behind it like there had been a year ago.

He chuckled through the grin. Ellie tried very hard not to smile.

“I am not admitting anything, before you start,” she blurted out. She glanced at him, standing there looking pleased with himself. “Oh god,” she muttered. “Fine. Ground rules. You take me out on a date once a week. And come round no more often than you do now, which is once a week. And I’ll think about it. If Tom and Fred aren’t happy, you walk away. They come first. Got that? Coz I’m not having them afraid to sleep at night because there’s a man in the house.”

“Just so you know,” he said slowly and quietly. “I haven’t the first clue on how to raise boys, much less someone else’s kids. I wouldn’t even know where to start. I had a little girl, with pretty bows and dresses and dolls. What do I know what boys like-?”

“Make a stetti, nom nom,” a voice spoke from near Hardy’s feet. “Remy got a stetti. Read a dory, Daddy?”

Utterly gob-smacked, Hardy stared down at the two year old at his feet, holding a nibbled Jammy Dodger in one hand and a Ratatouille book up to him with the other.

Ellie covered her mouth with both hands, her eyes round and wide. “That’s the first time he’s ever said ‘daddy’... Oh god. He thinks you’re his dad.”

He lifted his perturbed eyes to Ellie. He looked about ready to faint.

Ellie shrugged, made it look noncommittal, but she was flushed red with embarrassment. “Kids do that. Apparently.”

He managed a breath. “Ok, I give in. What else don’t I know about raising kids?”

Đ

Ellie was still in a huffy mood with Hardy as he stood the last plate on the drainer after dinner. She took sadistic delight in watching him wash up.

“You know, you could have used the dishwasher.”

He looked at her and lifted up his hands. “You mean my hands are now pruney for nothing?”

Ellie almost giggled, and covered her mouth with her fingertips and glanced up the hallway. She watched him dry his hands on a towel. “My boys have seemingly decided for us what happens next.”

“They have, yeah. And to think a year ago you hated me.”

“Not you, exactly,” she admitted. “Just the system. Men still get picked first.”

“But if you think about it, it’s always going to be like that because there are more men on the force.”

“I know, but, still. It felt personal. And then you turned up, the man who’d failed his last case-”

“Thanks for that.”

“Yeah, well, I just blew it all out of proportion, didn’t I? And you didn’t exactly help matters.”

“Cold, wasn’t I?” he admitted.

“Yeah, but it’s understandable, after everything you’d been through.”

“The Sandbrook trial begins in a week. Are you ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be. Are you?”

“No. They’re likely to tear me apart in the Courtroom. But at least I know I was right all along. I’m vindicated. And I’ll have the love of a good woman to fall back on if they rough me up too much.”

“Oi! Don’t get ahead of yourself. I said I was admitting to nothing.”

He looked at her knowingly. “What you say verbally is one thing, but the rest of you is running on ahead.”

“Sh-sh, the boys aren’t in bed yet,” she hissed. She glanced up the hallway again and giggled. “Bit silly, this. I mean we’re grown adults, with kids. And we’re acting like we’re about to...”

“About to what?” he wondered innocently.

“You know!” she hissed. She glanced back up the hallway, listening to her boys playing. “Should we? I mean, is it too soon?”

“What does your heart tell you?”

“I dunno. Maybe. I don’t want to jump in too early and make it look like a rebound.”

“We’ve both been denying it for so long, even to ourselves, it’ll be hard to let go of that protection.”

“Six months since the trial, a year since Danny’s death, and here we are discussing this. This is going to be awkward at work.”

“Not if you stick to code. It becomes second nature. But if you treat me like everyone else-”

“With a few well placed ‘sirs’, and no first names,” she interjected.

He nodded. “It’ll be fine. We’ll take it slowly. I’m not going to rush in and make love to you right now.” 

“No. Kids first.” She glanced at the clock. “And that said, I need to put Fred to bed.”

He glanced at his watch. “I need to get back to the station. I’m expecting an email from South Mercia.” He walked towards the door to the hallway and hesitated. He looked at her intently. “I can’t wait to kiss you,” he whispered.

Ellie coughed a laugh. “You daft sod. Get going. I’ll see you at work in the morning. I need to plan child care around the trial next week.”

She followed him to the front door, pausing to dip his head into the living room. “See you, kids.”

“Bye,” Tom replied.

But Fred looked up, realised he was leaving and erupted into screaming, trotting over to hug Hardy’s leg, instantly in a terrible state.

“Not go ‘way!” he screamed, huge tears rolling down his cheeks and already red in the face.

“Fred, Fred, Fred,” he coaxed gently. He managed to disentangle the tot’s arms from around his leg and lifted him up. “Hey. What’s all this?” he asked patiently.

Ellie had to blink for a second. This was a side to Hardy she had never seen before.

“Not go ‘way!” Fred wailed again.

“Sh-sh-sh, listen. Are you listening?”

Fred nodded, calming a little bit.

“I’ll go home for a little while and come again another day.”

“Read a dory?” he asked unsteadily.

“If you like,” Hardy replied. “Tell you what, what are you doing Saturday?” he asked Ellie.

“Nothing, as far as I know.”

“Good. We’ll go to the beach. I need some good memories of that place. Sandcastles and paddling in the sea. I’ll meet you there at ten. Bring a picnic. And if it’s raining we’ll have a picnic inside.”

“Sounds like fun,” Ellie agreed. She reached up for Fred and he willingly went to her for a cuddle, settling his head on her shoulder tiredly. “See you tomorrow,” she said to Hardy.

“Yep. See you, Miller.”

Ellie tutted after him and shut the front door. At once Fred started to wail near her ear. “Oh, I think someone’s tired,” she announced. “Tom? Be a love and pick up Fred’s toys for me, please. I’ll put him to bed.”

“Ok. Mum?”

“Yes, sweetheart?” she said, reappearing in the doorway.

“Will me and Fred be safe with DI Hardy?”

“What do you mean ‘with’ DI Hardy?”

“Well, you like him, don’t you?”

Ellie sank a little and stepped into the room. She sat beside him, Fred on her lap, and brushed his hair from his eyes. “We can never be certain about anything in life, and sometimes we have to take risks and trust people. Alec Hardy is one person I know you can trust. If he wasn’t, I wouldn’t have him here, playing video games with you or reading books to Fred.”

“But you watch him, like he’s not safe.”

“I know, and it’s going to take some time, but a part of me will always feel like that, like there’s a danger. It’s what being a mum is all about. A bit protective, a bit silly sometimes, a bit raging bull sometimes, but if I had any doubt at all I’d stop. So you tell me if you ever get afraid, if you ever feel unsafe. I’ll always be here.”

“Yes, Mum.” He thought for a moment and then smiled. “He’s good with Fred. But he’s not very good at FIFA. I trashed him, fifteen-to-nil.”

Ellie suddenly laughed. “Well, you’ll have to teach him.”

Tom smiled. “Yeah. I’ll look forward to it.”

ĐĐ

Finished


End file.
